


[100+ Word Challenge] Batch 9 : Sakumoto

by jade_lil



Series: 100+ Word Challenge - JE PROMPTS [2]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Arashi - Freeform, Fanfiction, JE_Prompts, M/M, Sakumoto - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:53:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade_lil/pseuds/jade_lil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jun is sick and it is Sho’s turn to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[100+ Word Challenge] Batch 9 : Sakumoto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinigamiami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigamiami/gifts), [sweetspicyhot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetspicyhot/gifts).



> filling prompts over @ je_prompts

**Title :**  [100+ Word Challenge] Batch 9 : Sakumoto   
 **Author** : Jadey  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Pairing** : Jun/Sho  
 **Disclaimer** : fiction, yo!  
 **Word count**  : around 2300 words  
 **Summary :**  Jun is sick and it is Sho’s turn to take care of him.  
 **Note :**  filling prompts over at je_prompts! 5-drabble prompts that completes a whole fic.  
  
+++  
  
 **41\. Cold**  
  
He’s still clad in his oldest pair of pajamas (the one he’d never admit he owned even if anyone asked), barefoot, shivering and on the middle of his sneezing fit when Sho came in, hands halting on dusting snowflakes off his coat and looking worriedly at him.  
  
“Ma-chan, are you sick?” came the equally worried question but he’s too busy blowing his nose to actually answer him. Well, it sure feels like it, since his temperature is kind of hot but at the same time, he feels kind of cold. Weird.  
  
“You’re hot,” Sho murmurs and his voice sounded nearer this time; it takes him a whole minute to realize that Sho wasn’t referring to his apparent sexiness as when he looks up he finds Sho hovering over him, palm pressed against his temple, feeling him. He couldn’t believe how Sho managed to reach him too fast without him knowing it, how the older man moved from the doorway to the couch he’s currently camping at in record time, blinking at Sho and making a face at him too when Sho leans down to nuzzle his cheeks.  
  
“Fever,” Sho murmurs, and then like an afterthought, “I can’t believe it; the Almighty is sick,”  
  
That alone would have been enough to make him want to swing his hand and hit the other man on the face but he’s feeling too weak to even say anything, let alone do anything.  
  
He huffs out an annoyed groan and pushes at Sho’s face, hands slipping absently on Sho’s shoulder and he ended up with his own face mashed against Sho’s sloppy shoulder, his hand finding the familiar curve of Sho’s hips for support.  
  
Sho’s fingers were on his hair the next instant, his other hand patting his hip.   
  
“That’s right, Ma-chan,” Sho is saying while he moves him, shifting him so he’s now lying on his back on the couch. “My turn to take care of you this time,”  
  
  
 **42\. Win**  
  
No matter how sick Sho thinks he is, he’s  _not_ that sick to know what Sho has on his hand and what he is about to give him.   
  
Few steps away from where he’s bundled under the comforter Sho took from the bedroom earlier, he could see (and actually smell) the disgusting steaming Chinese Herbal Tea that Sho has prepared for him to drink.  
  
“I am not going to drink that, Sho-chan, so forget it,” he harrumphs, grabs the discarded throw pillow lying on the floor and uses it to cover his face.   
  
“Uh oh, no can do,” Sho retorts and Jun is again left wondering when the fuck Sho has developed these ninja-like skills of being able to approach him without making any noise. He could blame it on the fact that his senses are actually a little fucked up right now, but he’s too annoyed to even call Sho out on it.   
  
There’s a hand poking him on the waist and he does his best to dodge it without accidentally hitting Sho on the face.   
  
“NO,” he hisses but his voice ends up sounding muffled, since he still has the throw pillow pressed against his face.   
  
“Would you rather take those over-the-counter medicines instead of drinking this?” Sho counters, sounding smug. Jun doesn’t even need to look at him to know that Sho is smirking and is using this opportunity to get back at him.  
  
He groans, low and miserable against the pillow as Sho moves away just a little bit to give him some room to shift around till he’s sitting up properly and glaring at Sho from beneath the warm comforter.  
  
“The meds or –“ Sho asks, pointing at the mug on his hand, smiling at him like he knows he’s winning in the end anyway.   
  
It’s the tea or none at all, because there is no way he’s going to even let those doubtful over-the-counter medicines near him; at least the herbal tea has been proven to work wonders (Sho is the living, breathing and irritating evidence that the tea really is effective for colds and the likes) since he also had to force the disgusting tea down Sho’s throat the week before when Sho suffered the same fate.  
  
He eyes the mug on Sho’s hand contemplatively, cringing at the memory of how Sho’s face crumpled in his futile attempt not to throw up when he drank this same tea.  
  
“Remember what you said last time when it was me lying on the same couch and refusing to drink this same tea,” Sho says with a very out-of-place grin, his free hand moving down to cup himself as if to prove his point, whatever point the fucker is out to prove, that is. It’s a wonder really, how he is able to put up with Sho on days like these when Sho acts like a dick with the word ‘mother’ tattooed on his forehead.  
  
“ _No sex allowed until you’re well, Sho-chan_ ,” Sho says, mimicking his voice like a pro while he’s palming himself through his pants. It’s unfair really, but he supposed this is one of the many reasons why he’s in love with this jerk.  
  
He’s grunting and laying his hand out, palm spread while trying to avoid glancing at Sho’s hand squeezing himself, and instead focusing his attention to the disgusting tea that is still on Sho’s other hand.  
  
“Fine,” he mutters dejectedly; well, it’s this or suffer a week without sex (which is impossible, no way); “Give me that,”  
  
Sho’s smile is as bright as the afternoon sun.  
  
“That’s my Ma-chan,” he croons, handing him the mug but not without leaning in first to press a smacking kiss against the side of his mouth.  
  
  
 **43\. Cards**  
  
He’s on the couch still, his head on Sho’s lap while Sho runs his fingers through his hair.   
  
It’s comfortable, familiar, like they’ve been doing this all their life, though it hasn’t even been a year since they’ve been together. Officially, at least.  
  
He remembers the awkwardness, the fact that the two of them couldn’t do more than squirm uncomfortably when they have to stand so close to one another during shows and interviews. Its better if the other three were there with them, at least there’d be someone to start a conversation with when things started to get a little too quiet but when it’s just the two of them, the awkward air always lingers on no matter how much they tried denying it.  
  
It was like they were both aware about the feelings they have for each other, but neither of them had been brave enough to take the first step. He’d been sure he wouldn’t be the first to step over the imaginary boundary, wouldn’t be the first to confess a decade’s worth of unspoken feelings no matter how drunk his bandmates had got him, because he’d been pretty sure Sho felt the same way too.  
  
And he was contented with whatever they are to each other, then – bandmates, friends – it didn’t matter as long as Sho is there when he look around to find him, smiling just the tiniest bit when he offers one of his in return, because for him, it was better than nothing. He and Sho were friends, at the very least, as cliché as it may sound but he had been okay with it – content, happy even.     
  
So it came as a shock to wake up naked next to an equally naked Sho in a room the following morning after their last concert performance, when they’re both pretty sure they retired to their respective rooms the night before, separately, and wearing far too many clothes than they woke that morning.  
  
Sho was the first to get his bearings, strutting to the door with all the intention of opening it while he on the other hand was too busy ogling at Sho’s backside to even care about the door being locked, or the fact that they were literally being held captive by whoever without them knowing it.   
  
When Sho turned to face him, his expression grim and pale, it took every ounce of strength he still had left on his body not to look down at Sho’s crotch, waiting for Sho to say the words that would confirm his (not at all) unfounded fears.  
  
“Locked, alright,” Sho had said then, before glancing around the room at large, and that was also when he realized they’re missing something. Some very important somethings.  
  
Their clothes were gone, along with their phones, their keycards, even the hotel room phone cable was accidentally cut in two – miraculously, the only thing they had was a sketch pad (which they were pretty sure  belonged to no one else but Leader) and a pen.  
  
They were not really sure if those were helpful but he guessed it might come in handy if they were to ask for help (which actually didn’t happen because they did something else instead of asking for help).  
  
“There’s nothing else to do then but to confess, I think,” Sho mumbles softly, as if he is talking to himself but Jun heard him just the same. It still puzzles him, somehow, when Sho says the words he’s only been thinking quietly to himself, like they could actually read each other’s thoughts and follow up each other’s sentences without even trying.  
  
“You’re creepy,” he mutters, shifting to his side so he’s nuzzling Sho’s belly instead, his nose digging against the toned muscles of Sho’s stomach. “I don’t even want to know how you can actually read my mind like that,”  
  
Sho chuckles, fond and indulging, his fingers light on his hair.   
  
“It’s too easy,” Sho says, like he means it; “ – because your thoughts are usually too loud, and because I am pretty certain you always go back to that particular day, thinking and rethinking things when you really shouldn’t,”  
  
He huffs. “I was thinking why I even opened my mouth and told you I’m in love with you, laying all my cards just like that without letting you –“  
  
“But I did tell you I love you back, right?”  
  
“After you had me bending over like a common who –“  
  
“I meant it though, not just because I was humping your behind or something,” Sho cuts in, grinning hugely.  
  
“God, I kind of hate you right now,” he tells Sho’s shirt, fingers clinging tight against the loopholes of Sho’s pants.  
  
“Well, I would too, if I’m in your position and I really want to blow you but couldn’t,”  
  
“Shut up, Sho-chan,”  
  
  
 **44\. Café**  
  
  
“Ma-chan, can I make some coffee?” Sho inquires from possibly the kitchen, while he’s busy texting Nino. The brat has been asking him how he is, if he thinks he needs to be hospitalized and if he needs someone to nurse him while he’s there. Twenty thousand yen per hour, the brat mentioned on his message, and he couldn’t  _not_ reply back.  
  
“Yes,” he yells, “stop asking everytime,”  
  
It is silent for about a whole minute before he hears the sound of something breaking – a glass or a plate, he’s not sure – followed by Sho’s muffled cursing.  
  
“Ma-chan, I think I just broke your favorite espresso cup,”   
  
His temple is throbbing and it doesn’t help that Sho is still saying something about broken cups and  _would it be better to break its matching saucer too so he could just replace them with something new_?   
  
“Sho-chan, just leave the fucking thing alone and don’t touch anything – you might hurt yourself and –“   
  
“Ouch! Ma-chan, I think I just cut my fingers – oh, bleeding!” Sho yells at the same time Nino replies him with,  _okay, how about five thousand yen per hour with free massage?_  
  
  
 **45\. Old**  
  
“How are you feeling?”   
  
Well. “Fine, I guess,” he says, rubbing his nose against the soft, cottony fabric of Sho’s borrowed pajama top, his fingers resting against Sho’s collarbones.   
  
Sho’s hands drifts down, traces his arms before it settles down the small of his back, curving possessively against the dip of his spine. Sho noses the start of his hair and he shifts closer to the touch, humming appreciatively when Sho leans down and presses his lips against his temple softly.  
  
“You better,” Sho hums back, but there’s a tiny bit hint of urgency in his usually ambiguous voice, like he is trying to keep himself from saying something he knows would embarrass them both.  
  
But at the same time, he’s holding Jun like the world will suddenly come to an end when he closes his eyes, and Jun feels it seeping through the older man’s skin like electric current buzzing across the surface. It makes him want to crawl under Sho’s skin if he could, makes him want to press closer and cross the tiny distance between their bodies if only to hear and feel each breath leaving Sho’s lungs, count each passing moment with their hands twined and their hearts beating in tandem.  
  
It takes him a moment to realize how much he wants this – how long he’d wanted this until now – when he only needs to lean sideways to catch the familiar smell of Sho’s aftershave, that he only needs to fumble around for not more than a few seconds and Sho’s hand will finds his as if he needs this too.  
  
“I will,” he finds himself saying, “Don’t worry,”  
  
Sho takes it in his stride and shifts to his side till they’re almost nose to nose, using his free hand to cup his chin and pressing their foreheads together.   
  
“Right. And no dying on me while I’m asleep, okay?”  
  
He chuckles and reaches down to pinch Sho’s waist. “No dying. Got it.”  
  
Sho breathes a sigh into his cheek, kisses the side of his forehead and murmurs,  
  
“Feel better, Ma-chan,” he says, warm and sleepy, and Jun wishes he could see his face right now; but it’s okay because Sho has his arms wrapped tight around him and he’d still be here in the morning when he opens his eyes.  
  
And the next morning.  
  
And the next morning too.  
  
“I will,”  
  



End file.
